


words don't come easily

by DragonEyez



Series: 15 Days of F@TT [1]
Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Fifteen Days of FatT, Fluff, Other, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonEyez/pseuds/DragonEyez
Summary: The Kingdom Come was quiet in the still hours of the night.orCass and Mako dance instead of sleep





	words don't come easily

**Author's Note:**

> title from [baby can i hold you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzIE3mRFypQ) by tracy chapman
> 
> have some sappy losers on valentines

The Kingdom Come was quiet in the still hours of the night. Well, what could be considered nighttime, considering they were surrounded by the endless void. And also, only quiet in the sense that nobody was actively making noise. As much as Cass loved the ship, it was a real rust bucket, and there was always some sort of creaking, groaning, or ominous clunking going on around them. It seemed even emptier as they passed the cockpit to get to the kitchen and was struck briefly with the now-familiar sensation of loss? grief? concern? as they saw AuDy’s immobile form, still in the captain’s chair. With a shake of their head, Cass moved on and began making themself a cup of tea. It was a brainless activity at this point, one they didn’t need to think to do. They lost themself in the comforting mechanics of it all. Which was probably why it was so easy for someone to sneak up on them. 

Cold arms wrapped around their waist and Cass credited themself for only tensing for a moment as Mako buried his face between their shoulder blades with a sleepy noise. They smiled softly to themself before patting one of Mako’s hands as they poured the now-hot water into their mug (a neon green JoyPark novelty pill bottle that was offensive to the eyes but they kept because Mako and Aria had given it to them). He seemed content to just stand there while Cass finished, so they took their time, patiently stirring in salt and cream until it was perfect and they could toss the tea bag. 

“Mako, what are you doing up? It’s...late. Relatively.”

“Can’t sleep. Why are you up, Doctor Know-It-All?”

“‘ _Doctor Know-It-All?_ ’” Cass raised in eyebrow in amusement before remembering that Mako couldn’t see it.

“Admittedly not my best one. Don’t make that face.” 

“You can’t see my face.”

“You’re doing the thing with your eyebrow when you think I said something stupid.”

“It’s the face I make when you say something cute. The fact that they might overlap certainly isn’t my fault.”

“Ugh, you’re too coherent for Space Midnight.” Mako released Cass’ waist to tug on the sleeve of their sweater, pulling them to the living room. Cass bit back a complaint about the fact that he was stretching it out and followed, mug in hand. They sat on the couch, Cass near the arm of it and Mako curled into their side. Mako fidget with his screens for a minute, and suddenly soft music was playing, breaking the silence of the ship. Cass was mildly surprised. They hadn’t known that Mako even had any idea that music that wasn’t just _noise_ existed.  
They sat together quietly, Cass enjoying the warmth from the tea and the company. Eventually the song faded out into another, one that Cass was surprised to find they recognized. It was an old Apostolisian number, one they’d been forced to dance to at nearly every formal event as soon as they could walk. Absentmindedly, they tapped a foot on the ground in time with the beat. Mako looked up at them mischievously, and trace of exhaustion gone from his face. They pretended not to see it, pointedly ignoring him.

“Caaaaaasssss.” He wheedled.

“No, Mako.”

“Come on Cass. You never dance with me. Well except for that one time but that doesn’t count because we were drunk and on a job so it really wasn’t the same as-”

“I can’t dance.”

“That’s a massive lie.”

“I don’t like to dance.” They amended.

“Please?” oh and there was that tone. The “Cass-can’t-say-no-to-this” Tone that got them into way more trouble than they ever would otherwise. 

With a heavy sigh, Cass set aside their half full mug and stood, offering a hand to Mako. He took it with glee and they moved his hands to wear they needed to be and-

“Wait!” Mako restarted the song and then reset himself, smiling up at Cass. “Okay now.”

Cass taught Mako the steps patiently, not quite knowing how to explain outside of halfway between a tango and waltz. Mako stumbled along at first, stepping on their toes until he started to get the hang of it and allowed Cass to guide him around the small space. 

“You’re good at this.” He said. There was no surprise or mockery in his tone, just a flat observation.

Cass leaned their head down so their lips were near his ear. “I had to dance a lot when I was young. It was expected of anyone involved in the Empirical Court.” They confessed. “I hated the fact that it was a whole thing; the shoes pinched and I rarely got to dance with people my own age. But I loved dancing.”

“Usually the dances at-” Mako cut himself off sharply, looking down so quickly that he nearly hit Cass in the chin with his head. “Forget it.”

Worried that they’d ruined the mood, Cass tried to recover quickly. “This isn’t so terrible though.”

“What isn’t?”

“Dancing with you. You’re not half bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Mako looked back up at him, glint in his eye. “Think I could hold my own on the Apostolisian dance floor now?”

Cass laughed at that. “Maybe a little more practice, first.”

“Well we’ve got plenty of time.”

They nodded at that and Mako smiled, resting his head against Cass’ chest. The pair spun around the room as one song faded into another, tea forgotten and long-cold on the side table as the hours crept on.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated and i can be found [here](https://theunacceptablepylades.tumblr.com/) or crying about f@tt on twitter @queerlydeparted


End file.
